Peanut Nose

He played with the peanut as if it was his friend,
something I would not normally recommend.

The peanut went everywhere high and low,
why we let him play with it, we'll never know.

He loved the peanut as if it were his own,
hugging it and loving it, talking to it on the phone.

Then one day, that peanut was gone from his sight,
so I asked him, "Did you and the peanut have a fight?"

No, he told me, they certainly did not;
and that's when I saw it: the snot.

"Were you crying," I asked, he seemed sniffly and sad,
"No mom," he whined, "and I have not been bad!"

Now I wondered what was really wrong with my boy,
because I had not accused him or acted annoyed.

"Your nose seems stuffed up my dear," I said,
"I thought maybe you were sad you lost your friend."

"I did not lose my peanut at all," he said,
'in fact mommy, I named him Fred.

"That's great honey, but where is Fred now?"
"He's in my nose, of course," and he took a bow.

"Why is there a peanut in your nose?" I asked.
"Because he needed a hiding place, and he needed it fast."

"Who is he hiding from my dear son,"
"Oh no one, mom, I just thought it'd be fun!"